A painful duty

Whistle
1

As I contemplate the coming week, when I have a duty to perform, many thoughts are in my mind.

It has been mentioned in other places that many will be playing whistles and other instruments of honor this coming Wednesday, to remember the fallen.

My particular duty takes me to my brother’s grave.

His name was William E. Peeples, but everyone knew him as Bill. He didn’t die in New York or Washington; he didn’t live long enough to see the attack on our country.

He died of lymphoma in 1997, at the age of 46, just ten years older than I am now. He left behind a grieving wife and a young teenage son, both parents, one sister, and three brothers, of which I am the youngest.

He tried to live–indeed, he fought to live. But the cancer was wrapped like a snake around the aorta, and was inoperable. They tried chemo, which was horrible, and then they tried radiation.

Bill fought the real war that every one of us must one day fight. The war against disease, and ignorance, and fear, and he fought it well. He died but he was not defeated.

He weighed about 98 pounds when he died.

It is an open question rather at the end the tumor itself killed him, or the radiation did, or a combination of the two.

He slipped from horrible, unimaginable life into quiet death, I think perhaps gratefully.

I know I was grateful when I heard he was gone. Grateful, and so relieved for him, that he was out of the pain that no drug could even start to dim.

The real war we fight isn’t against terrorism, or against aggression. The real war is against the slow slide back into chaos, the slippery slope of just not caring anymore, the seductive call of hatred for others, and at the last, for ourselves.

I will go to my brother’s grave, and I will play for him in his long sleep, so that perhaps he will hear, and know that he is remembered.

As I approach this duty, remembering my brother and remembering also so many countrymen who died last year, I make a few promises to myself:

–to forgive without being asked
–to refrain from unkindness
–to turn away from fear
–to give at least one person an unexpected hug, every day
–to never teach someone else to hate
–to always look for the best in someone, no matter how hard it may be
–to remember life is precious because it ends
–to remember love is precious because it doesn’t end

If you wish to join me in these promises, you would be welcomed.

I will seek to apply those promises to this very board and the things I post here; again, if you wish to join me in this, you would be welcomed.

The only thing we do in our life that counts for a damn thing is those we touch as we take this one-way journey.

So especially in this time of rememberance and of honor, let’s all start quite simply, by just being nice to each other.

It is a seed from which mighty things may grow.

Peace and best wishes to all,

–James
http://www.flutesite.com

2

My heart goes out to you, James. May you and your family heal in the years to come.

3

James,

Thank you for sharing. Your promises resonate. They are inspiring and something I work at and wish for the world.

4

–to forgive without being asked
–to refrain from unkindness
–to turn away from fear
–to give at least one person an unexpected hug, every day
–to never teach someone else to hate
–to always look for the best in someone, no matter how hard it may be
–to remember life is precious because it ends
–to remember love is precious because it doesn’t end

I have been guilty of all these things, as I believe many of us have from time to time.

“Does it take ‘this’ to make us see?”

Tolkein may have been a fantasy writer to many, but he also was a human, and a compasionate one at that. Those who know him may recognize the quote, and appreciate it’s context.

5

Thanks, peeplj, I’ll share a quiet tune with you this week after your inspiring post. Probably ‘Banks of Lochiel’.

PS we live near Sarehole Mill and Moseley in Birmingham where Tolkein started off.

6

What an inspiring post.A big hug to you James.:slight_smile: peace,Mike

7

Amen, James. Beautifully put.

8

James, thank you for sharing your personal and painful story and the beautiful lessons you have taken from it. With this as your center, you make the world around you a better place - a place that attracts others because it is a good place. Thank you for letting us be a part of that world.

((((hugs))) Nancy

9

Thanks for sharing, James. A tender reminder about why we need to whistle. My thoughts are with you.

Carol

10

wow.

11

That blew me away. My prayers are with you James. My own brother-in-law died in similar circumstances in 1996 at age 45 so I can relate to a certain extent - my wife could certainly relate.

12

James, thank you for your touching reminder at how precious and beautiful life is, and how each moment is to be cherished, as is each person that passes through one’s life… I try to live my life by the tenets you posted, but reminders are always welcome and appreciated!

Many blessings,
Andrea ~*~

13

“Bill fought the real war that every one of us must one day fight. The war against disease, and ignorance, and fear, and he fought it well. He died but he was not defeated.”

# # # #

This could have been my beloved Mike who fought the good fight for 7 yrs. A few hours after his death I witnessed the transformation from pain and suffering on his face to one of peace and an ever so slight smile on his lips. And I was grateful.
It brought me the peace that passes all understanding. I will be thinking of you, James. There is something very rewarding, (not sure that’s the word)about playing at the grave of someone you loved.
Peace be with you, Gm

14

Thank you for your post, James. The honesty and beauty of your words has really touched me - even more so, as I read them going through some dark times filled with sorrow, disappointment and anger, sometimes feeling rather lost.
I hope, I’m about to find my way home again now, and I thank you for being a good guide.
Keep your light shining!
Claus

15

Thank you James. We are sobered by your words, and maybe changed, if only a little. I’ll post that list at work and read it daily.

16

Remembrance: Mays and Will

In this time of remembrance.

I may play
the lament and mourning of loss,
of the good that was cut short,
as the arm across shoulders consoles.

I may play
the striving and determination
to overcome the hardness
of angers
coming or going.

I may play
the confusion of misunderstanding
with the gentle smile
that follows its resolution,
bringing the laugh
that nurtures tolerance.

I may play
the soaring joy,
lifted on freedoms’ wings,
as each day dawning
enlightens,
filling the sky
and all the souls
that dwell under it.

I may play
the cherished soft scents
from flowers freed
as petals crushed
in loves embrace.

I may play
the sparkle of eye,
that fills each face,
at new birth.

I may play
the giggle
from feather tickled
by trusted friend,
from bird actual
or allegorical.

In this special time,
as in any other,
what may or may not
is known only at day’s end.

However,
this I know
that today
and each other day
I will commit
to play
all
that is from my heart
remembered,
translating
to tone and timbre,
the connections
all share.

Encouraging each and all to ...

Enjoy Your Music,

Lee Marsh

[ This Message was edited by: LeeMarsh on 2002-09-09 13:39 ]

17

I wanted to express my gratitude to you all for your replies, your support, and your good wishes.

Tonight at about 6:00 I will be going to Bill’s grave to play, and remember, and just basically tell him hello and he is missed, remembered, and loved.

My wife will be with me and we will each leave a red rose on the grave…real roses, as precious and fleeting as the life that they symbolize.

My thanks and best wishes go with you all, as do my kindest and warmest thoughts.

–James Peeples
http://www.flutesite.com

18

Though many leave us from time to time, we ourselves are never truly alone. Those who have passed before us are still with us in our hearts, and they watch us every day from the other side.

No one is ever alone.

19

One last post, and then it’s time to let this topic close, I think.

My wife and I took a red rose and a yellow rose to lay on Bill’s grave, and stood in silence a bit.

I then played “The Parting Glass,” “Amazing Grace,” and “Dochas.”

Then we stood a bit more, I told my brother I love him and miss him, told my wife I love her most of all, and then we left together.

My thanks and heartfelt appreciation to all my friends here who have shared this with me.

And my prayer for each of thee,
Walk in sunlight, and Blessed Be.

My best to all,

–James Peeples
http://www.flutesite.com